Leslie winced with each grizzled grunt that emerged from the bulky body half in, half out of her washing machine. A final curse and a loud “Ah ha!” as the shaved head – bright red from contortion emerged from the drum and the plumber pulled himself up slowly, both knees popping in the process. Waiting expectantly for his professional recrimination, she wasn’t disappointed as he discarded a thin piece of curved wire onto the work top.
“That’s your problem” he wheezed, drying his hands on her embroidered tea towel.
“What is it?” she asked, picking it up puzzled. When she looked back at him, she was shocked to find the heavy set man pointing at her bosom with bemused disapproval.
“Bra wire…You women and your mechanical bras…” He let free a hearty laugh as he packed away his tools. Leslie burned in shame and turned quickly to find her purse.
“What do I owe you?” she asked, holding the purse up under her chin, arms covering her chest like a squirrel guarding a nut. The plumber smiled and shook his head.
“No charge for something that simple. Say hi to Cheryl for me.” He headed for the door, turning in afterthought. “But if there is a next time, I hope it isn’t until you’ve unpacked your normal tea.” He looked around the small kitchen filled with stacked boxes. “That perfumed muck doesn’t agree with me.” As he left, Leslie looked at the box of Earl Grey and sighed. The day before, when she had wrenched open the door of the broken machine, she had been greeted with a torrent of water soaking her feet. With no room to sink to the floor, Leslie had simply stood and cried amidst the boxes. Mark had always been there to fix things and she was beginning to think she would be forever useless without him.